


A Different Brand Of Bravery

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Community: slythindor100, HP: EWE, M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-02
Updated: 2009-02-02
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7468629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny is clingy, rumours are flying and it's now or never, Harry should come clean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Brand Of Bravery

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairings:** Harry/Draco (minor Harry/Ginny, but not really and not for very long)  
>  **Warnings:** EWE. A bit of flangst.  
>  **Disclaimer:** The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine.

"Thanks, Harry," Ginny Weasley beams, her smile bright enough to light up the whole county. "I knew you wouldn't let me down!" With that, she all but twirls out of the room, leaving a gobsmacked Harry Potter and a decidedly unimpressed Hermione Granger staring after her.  
  
"Oops," the former says, raking a hand through his wild hair. "I did it again, didn't I?"  
  
Hermione crosses her arms and nods gravely. "You have to tell her the truth, Harry," she says, her voice stern. "It certainly isn’t honest, never mind fair, to keep stringing the poor girl along like this."  
  
"Well, I...” He shakes his head. "It's not like I did it on purpose, you know! She asked me if I thought her dress looked nice, and the next thing I knew, I was agreeing to take her to that Ministry thing as my date. I wasn't actually planning on...”  
  
Hermione sighs. "Be that as it may, Harry, and intentionally or not, the fact remains you've given her false hope. _Again._ And that simply won’t do.”  
  
“I know," he mutters.  
  
  
  
****  
  
  
  
A week goes by. Harry is once again forced to acknowledge that for a conquering war hero, he’s exceptionally spineless when it comes to dealing with people, communication and feelings. 

  
So when he enters the magnificent ballroom, he does so with a proud Ginny Weasley on his arm.  
  
Assorted members of the press rush forward, cameras snap all around, and Harry knows this is only the beginning. Whatever happens tonight, he has a niggling suspicion chaos will be the one and only constant.  
  
  
  
****  
  
  
  
Harry sits quietly at his assigned table as the ceremony begins.  
  
The Ministry is bestowing honours again. Even two years after the war, it seems there are still plenty of medals up for grabs.   
  
It’s all down to keeping up morale, Hermione insists, _giving people hope,_ and Harry supposes she may be right. Still, he, for his part, wishes all this will be over with really soon. He'd rather be at home, sitting in front of the telly, or go somewhere else, anywhere where he won’t be the inevitable centre of attention.  
  
Right now, people should be watching the man who's making his way to the ceremonial platform. It’s some bloke by the name of Carstairs, if Harry heard correctly. Instead, all eyes are once again on the Boy Who Lived Twice To Defeat The Dark Lord; and by Merlin, how Harry loathes that particular title, even more so than its original version.  
  
Out of the blue, Ginny grabs his hand. Harry grits his teeth. She's being overly affectionate again, to the point of clingy.  
  
He has tried to make it clear to her that he isn’t ready for a relationship yet. Hermione told him to be more specific. _"She has the right to know you’ll never be interested in her again, Harry. This has gone on long enough.”_  
  
In his heart of hearts, Harry can’t deny the truth of that statement, and he has made a solemn promise to himself that later this evening, he will finally tell Ginny how he really feels, at last utter those difficult words:  _I love you, just not... like that anymore._  
  
He must tell her, especially now circumstances have changed. Another reason has cropped up that makes his continued silence inappropriate and unfair.  
  
Two days ago, Ginny received a letter. The Harpies want her on their team. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. Ginny would be foolish to turn it down, but nonetheless she just might for Harry’s sake, and Harry can’t allow that to happen, not when he knows with absolute certainty that he and Ginny will never be a couple again.  
  
Up on the stage, Carstairs begins what’s bound to be a lengthy and not particularly interesting speech, when Harry senses another sort of gaze.

Someone is watching him again, and this time it’s not a random spectator eager to catch a glimpse or two of the war hero turned near-recluse present here tonight.  
  
Harry takes a deep breath. He already knows who it is. Even after all that time, he easily recognises the distinctive prickle on the back of his neck.  
  
Bracing himself, he turns his head to meet a familiar pair of grey eyes.  
  
A few tables away, Draco Malfoy is looking straight at him and to Harry's astonishment, nods in greeting.  
  
Swallowing hard, Harry can do nothing but nod back.  
  
"Malfoy?" Ginny whispers. "What on earth are he and his mother doing here?"  
  
Harry doesn't reply, even though he fully knows the answer.  
  
  
  
****  
  
  
  
When Narcissa Malfoy née Black gracefully steps towards the platform, a regal smile on her pale face, no one in the room is still looking at Harry Potter.  
  
Perhaps the people in attendance would react differently if they knew Harry Potter had been the one to put her name forward for a bravery award, but as things stand, all they can do is stare in awe and listen attentively to everything Lucius Malfoy’s wife has to say.  
  
Harry cannot help himself. Discreetly, he sneaks another peek at Draco.  
  
The sight of the young man’s happy and proud expression stirs up strange, though not at all unpleasant sensations in Harry’s stomach.  
  
  
  
****  
  
  
  
The ceremony seems to last an eternity, though it actually only takes two hours and forty-three minutes. Luna Lovegood knows this exactly. She kept track of time for that _Quibbler_ article she’ll be writing about tonight. The smallest detail can be of the greatest importance, her father always says.  
  
Once the final award has been handed out, Luna walks over to Harry’s table and asks if she could perhaps borrow Ginny for a few minutes. “There’s something I need to discuss with her. It’s quite important.”  
  
Harry has no way of knowing what this might be about—at first glance, it’s never clear what Luna is up to; only in hindsight do her actions make sense and even then, only sometimes—but regardless, he’s grateful for the interruption.  
  
While he sat there listening to boring speeches and lavish praises, some decidedly more sincere than others, he could only think of one thing.  
  
He needs to speak to Malfoy. He has no clue yet of what he’ll say exactly, but talk to him, he must. Between them, too, there remains unfinished business which Harry should no longer ignore.  
  
_No._ Harry takes a deep breath. He cannot keep up this pretence any longer. The time has come to be brave about matters that have nothing to do with Dark Wizards or rushing blindly into danger; well, not danger in the traditional sense of the word, at any rate.  
  
Harry nods to himself. He rises from his chair and strides towards the side door, the one through which he saw Malfoy leave just a few moments ago.  
  
  
  
  
****  
  
  
  
Exiting the ballroom, Harry walks out onto a large balcony. A few feet to his left, Malfoy is leaning over the railing, his gaze focused somewhere on the expansive grounds that stretch out behind the old building. Harry wonders what the man is thinking and why he came out here in the first place. _Well, only one way to find out…_  
  
Harry clears his throat.  
  
Malfoy turns around. “Oh,” he says, his tone not revealing anything of what he feels. “It’s you.”  
  
“Yeah.” Harry smiles awkwardly. “Hello.” He takes a few steps closer. “How, er—“  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“How have you been?” Harry manages, wishing he could come up with something less… _pathetic_.  
  
“Quite well,” Malfoy replies. “Yourself?”  
  
“Fine,” Harry mumbles, feeling more idiotic by the second; why did this seem like a good idea again?  
  
An odd silence sets in, in which the two men merely look at one another, both with similar calculating expressions.  
  
Malfoy is the one to finally break it. “So,” he says conversationally. "Can we all expect a happy announcement later tonight, Potter?”  
  
Harry blinks. “Announcement?”  
  
“Well, yes. You and the Weasle-the Weasley girl. Impending nuptials, I gather?”  
  
Harry’s eyes grow as wide as saucers. “W-What?” he chokes out. “Whoever gave you that idea? Ginny and I, we’re not, I mean… We’re not together anymore; we’re just friends.”  
  
“You’re not together?” Malfoy looks sceptical. “Odd. It would appear everyone else present here tonight is of a different opinion. People are even taking bets on the name of your first child.” He pauses and smirks. “As it happens, I put twenty Galleons on ‘Sirius’, myself, but don’t let that influence you by any means.”  
  
Harry’s head is reeling. He should have taken Hermione’s advice much sooner. This whole situation has gone completely out of hand. “Er, w-would you excuse me for a moment?” he stammers, almost tripping over his words. “Um, stay here? I’ll be right back.”  
  
Amused, Malfoy crosses his arms. “All right, my curiosity has been sufficiently piqued. I’ll wait here for you, Potter. However, if this turns out to be some kind of joke, and you...”  
  
“I-It isn’t,” Harry says before bursting back into the ballroom. “I promise.”  
  
  
  
****  
  
  
  
Walking through the door, he almost bumps straight into Ginny and Luna. Luna smiles sweetly at him, whereas Ginny looks uncertain, almost... guilty. Harry frowns.  
  
“You two should talk,” Luna states matter-of-factly. “Why don’t you go and find yourselves a quiet corner to do just that?”  
  
“Yes, we will,” Ginny replies, surprisingly quickly by Harry’s assessment. She takes his arm and all but drags him to the other side of the room.  
  
  
  
****  
  
  
  
“Harry,” she begins as he takes the seat across from her. “Right, then.”  
  
“Yes?” he asks with a slight frown.  
  
Ginny looks uncharacteristically nervous; even uncomfortable. She wrings her hands and says, “It’s about the job offer; well,”—the smile she gives him is almost apologetic—“to be honest, not just the job offer.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah. Um, you know how Luna spent a month in Bulgaria, to write that article on the Dragonau-some creature that had been sighted in the Longoz Forest, before she came back to London last week?”  
  
Harry nods, still clueless as to where this is going.  
  
“Well, she, um, bumped into an old acquaintance of ours.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Viktor Krum.” Ginny gives him another odd smile. “He enquired about me, or rather....” She takes a deep breath. “He’d heard about the job offer—the wife of one of his teammates is with the Harpies as well—and he wondered whether you and I.... Anyway, basically, he asked Luna if I was seeing anyone.”  
  
Harry frowns. He really doesn’t know what to make of all this. In truth, he couldn’t be more confused if Ron were to walk in with bright purple tentacles growing out of his head, but he does get the distinct impression he’s on the verge of discovering something important. “So what did Luna say? To Viktor, I mean.”  
  
Ginny hesitates. “She said she.... wasn’t sure.”  
  
Harry frowns again. “Oh.”  
  
“Yeah, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You see...” Ginny takes another deep breath. “You’re a great bloke, Harry, and you’ve always been awfully good to me and well, you saved my life a couple of times, even literally once, and well, you couldn’t be more noble or loyal or brave.... But the thing is...” She bites her lip.  
  
“Yes? Go on…”  
  
“I realised, you know, when Luna told me about Viktor showing interest, that I felt… flattered, I suppose. I’ve been… The fact of the matter is, you and me…” She sighs, immense regret plainly written all over her face. “It isn’t going to work, is it?”  
  
Harry swallows hard. This is just about the last thing he expected to happen tonight, and he can’t decide whether he feels relieved or guilty, or just guilty about feeling relieved. Possibly, it’s a bit of all three. “No,” he mutters. “It’s not.”  
  
“I-I tried, but….” She gestures in the space between them. “People change. I’ve changed. You have, too, and really, we’re just trying to kid ourselves.”  
  
“Yeah,” he says. His heart is racing. He feels he ought to be more eloquent, or at least show some hint of remorse, but all he can do is smile sadly and nod.  
  
“We can still stay friends, though, right?” Ginny then says, starting to sound a bit frantic. “I care about you a great deal, Harry. Please don’t think I don’t. You’re like… well, part of my family.”  
  
Harry smiles again, without sadness or reservation this time. “We’ll always be friends, Gin,” he replies sincerely. “Nothing in the world could ever change that.”  
  
She leaps forward and pulls him into a crushing hug. This time, he doesn’t mind.  
  
  
  
****  
  
  
  
Holding his breath, Harry pushes the balcony door open. Almost an hour has passed since he asked Malfoy to wait for him. Hopefully the man has stayed put.  
  
_Thank Merlin!_ Harry can’t help the wide grin that spreads across his face when he spots him still standing there, half-smirking, half-smiling the moment their gazes meet.  
  
“Ah, Potter. You came back after all. It’s good to see noble Gryffindors remain true to themselves even when they're no longer in school.”  
  
Harry’s grin widens even further. “Sorry. I-I had a lot to discuss…”  
  
“With Ginevra, I presume?”  
  
Harry doesn’t fail to notice there’s something guarded about Malfoy’s tone. “Yeah, but it’s all sorted now. She’s going to join the Harpies, and will be seeing quite a bit of Viktor Krum, too, I expect.”  
  
“Fascinating,” comes the dry response.  
  
“Yeah,” Harry says with a slight chuckle.  
  
“So,” Malfoy continues before another silence gets the chance to turn things awkward again. "What did you wish to speak to me about? At least, I assume that’s why you requested me to wait?”  
  
“Yeah, er, I was wondering…” Harry takes a deep breath and reminds himself of his resolution to be brave, a resolution he has partly kept so far; in a fashion. “Malf-Draco, would you like to go out for a meal sometime?”  
  
Malfoy blinks. “Are you asking me out on a date, Potter?” he asks bluntly, and when no immediate answer is forthcoming—predictably, Harry just stands there with flushed cheeks and a goofy expression—he adds, “You are aware my preferences in romantic partners are…or rather, that they lean towards men, not women?”  
  
“I-I wouldn’t have asked you out otherwise,” Harry blurts out.  
  
“Good, so long as we’re clear on that matter.” Smiling, he takes a few steps closer until he’s standing right in front of Harry. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. Mother must be wondering where I am.”  
  
Harry opens his mouth to say something, but before he can utter a single word, Draco presses a brief, gentle kiss to his lips.  
  
Harry’s eyes widen. “W-What was that for?” he asks in a voice that sounds oddly rusty all of a sudden.  
  
“Consider it a prelude of things to come,” Draco replies. “That is, if you play your cards right. I’ll be expecting your Owl tomorrow, Potter.” A small nod, four large strides, and he’s out the door.  
  
“All right,” Harry whispers into the warm June air. “Tomorrow.”  
  
When he re-enters the ballroom a few moments later, the big goofy grin is back on his face. It will probably remain there for the rest of the night.


End file.
